Treasure Island

George Dudley


Old Friend


Over there against the wall
my rusted friend, forlorn, forgot,
red ochre darkened by the rain
where once shone silver sun.

Sad, he lies in weed,
a steed I once rode wild.
We laughed upon the wind
when life was young, and I.

My rust, my ageing form,
much akin, he and I.
We sped, we thrilled and spilled
our youth upon the dust.

No more my mount of dreams.
No more imaginings where space
and time dance dizzily.
No more my youth and no more us.

Goodbye old friend

Submitted: Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Edited: Wednesday, February 12, 2014

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

This poem was born whilst looking out of the window onto the rear garden contemplating a mass tidy up.

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